The Bright Face of Danger

  CHAPTER IV.

  WHO THE LADY WAS

  By the time I was in the court-yard, the messenger was walking out ofthe archway. By the time I was at the outer end of the archway, he waswell on his way toward one of the streets that go from the square. Iwaited in the shelter of the archway till he had got into thatstreet--or road, I should say, for it soon leaves the town, proceedingstraight in a South-easterly direction for about half a league throughthe country. As soon as he was out of the square, I was after him,stepping so lightly I could scarce hear my own footfalls. He walkedrapidly, and as one who does not think of turning to look behind, a factwhich I observed with comfort.

  If he was indeed the messenger, he must have been content with a veryshort rest for his horse after delivering the note to Monsieur deMerri;--must have started from Sable as soon as, or little later than,Monsieur de Merri himself, to be in La Fleche on the same evening thatgentleman arrived there, and to be out of it again before I was, as hemust have been if he reached Le Lude by midnight. Perhaps he was passingthrough La Fleche at the very time the duel was going on; but the sum ofall was, that he could not know Monsieur de Merri was killed, and this Ifelt to be fortunate for me.

  Another thought which I had while following him along the straight whiteroad that day, was that if the lady could command the services of thisable young fellow to bear a message so far, why could she not use himdirectly for the saving of her life and honour? Evidently there was areason why mere zeal and ability would not suffice. Perhaps thenecessary service was one in which only a gentleman could be accepted.But I feared rather that there might be some circumstance to makeMonsieur de Merri the only possible instrument; and my heart fell atthis, thinking what I had done. But I hoped for the best, and did notlose sight of the young man ahead of me.

  After we had walked about twenty minutes, the road crossed a bridge androse to the gates of a chateau which had at one corner a very high oldtower. In front of the chateau, the road turned off sharply to the left.A few small houses constituted such a village as one often sees huddledabout the feet of great castles. A drawbridge, which I could see betweenthe gate towers, indicated that the chateau and its immediate groundswere surrounded by a moat. The messenger did not approach the gates, nordid he follow the road to its turning. He disappeared down a lane to theright.

  When I got to the lane, he had already passed out of it at the otherend. I hastened through, and caught sight of him in the open fields thatlay along the side wall of the chateau. Near the outer edge of the moat,grew tangled bushes, and I noticed that he kept close to these, as if tobe out of sight from the chateau. At a distance ahead, skirting the rearof the chateau enclosure, stretched the green profile of what appearedto be a deep forest. It was this which my unconscious guide wasapproaching. I soon reached the bushes by the fosse, and used them formy own concealment in following him. When he came to the edge of theforest, at a place near a corner of the wall environing the chateaugrounds, what did he do but stop before the first tree--a fine oak--andproceed to climb up it? I crouched among the bushes, and looked on.

  When he gained the boughs he worked his way out on one that extendedtoward the moat. From that height he could see across the wall. He tooka slender pole that had been concealed among the branches, tied ahandkerchief thereto, and ran it out so that the bit of white could beseen against the leaves.

  "Oho! a signal!" said I to myself.

  Keeping the handkerchief in its position, he waited. I know not justwhat part of an hour went by. I listened to the birds and sometimes tothe soft sound of a gentle breeze among the tree tops of the forest.

  At last the handkerchief suddenly disappeared, and my man came quicklydown the tree. Watching the chateau beyond the walls, he had evidentlyseen the person approach for whom he had hung out his signal. He nowstood waiting under the tree. My heart beat fast.

  I heard a creaking sound, and saw a little postern open in the wall,near the tree. A girl appeared, ran nimbly across a plank that spannedthe moat, and into the arms of my young man.

  Could this, then, be the woman whose life and honour was in peril? No,for though she had some beauty, I could see at a glance that she was adependent. Moreover, her face shone gaily at sight of the messenger, andshe gave herself to his embrace with smothered laughter. But a momentlater, she attended seriously, and with much concern, to what he had tosay, of which I could hear nothing. I then saw what the case was: thiswas a serving-maid whom the endangered lady had taken into confidence,and who had impressed her lover into service to carry that lady'smessage. The lady herself must be in that chateau,--perhaps a prisoner.My first step must be to find out who were the dwellers in the chateau,and as much of their affairs as the world could tell me.

  The interview between the two young people was not long. It ended inanother embrace; the girl ran back over the plank, waved her hand at herlover, and disappeared, the postern door closing after her. The youngman, with a last tender look at the door, hastened back as he had come.I had to crawl suddenly under some low bushes to avoid his sight, makinga noise which caused him to stop within six feet of me. But I suppose heascribed the sound to some bird or animal, for he soon went on again.

  I lay still for some time, being under no further necessity of observinghim. I then walked back to the inn at Montoire at a leisurely pace.Looking into the stables when I arrived, I saw that the messenger'shorse was gone. He lived, as I afterwards learned from the innkeeper, onanother road than that which led to the chateau. I suppose he had chosento go afoot to the chateau for the sake of easier concealment.

  The innkeeper was looking amazed and injured, at my having gone away andlet my dinner spoil.

  "I was taken with a sudden sickness," I explained. "There's nothing likea walk in the fresh air when the stomach is qualmish. I am quite wellnow. I'll have another dinner, just what I ordered before."

  As this meant my paying for two dinners, the landlord was soon restoredto good-nature. He was a cheerful, hearty soul, and as communicative asI could desire.

  "That is a strong chateau about half a league yonder," I said to him, asI sipped his excellent white wine.

  "Yes, the Chateau de Lavardin," he replied. "Strong?--yes, indeed."

  "Who lives there?"

  "The Count de Lavardin."

  "What sort of man is he?"

  "What sort? Well!--an old man, for one thing,--or growing old. Or maybeyou mean, what does he look like?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "A lean old grey wolf, I have heard him likened to--without offence, ofcourse. Yes, he is a thin old man, but of great strength, for all that."

  "Is he a good landlord?"

  "Oh, he is not my landlord," said the innkeeper, looking as if he wouldhave added "Thank God!" but for the sake of prudence. "No; his estate isvery large, but it extends in the other direction from Montoire."

  "Is he a pleasant neighbour, then?"

  "Oh, I have no fault to find, for my part. One mustn't believe all thegrumblers. You may hear it said of him that his smile is more frightfulthan another man's rage. But people will say things, you know, when theythink they have grievances."

  I fancied that the innkeeper shared this opinion which he attributed tothe grumblers, and took satisfaction in getting it expressed, though toocautious to father it himself.

  "Then he has no great reputation for benevolence?"

  "Oh, I don't say that. We must take what we hear, with a grain of salt.He is certainly one of the great noblemen of this neighbourhood;certainly a brave man. You will hear silly talk, of course: how that heis a man whose laugh makes one think of dungeon chains and the rack. Butsome people will give vent to their envy of the great."

  I shuddered inwardly, to think that my undertaking might bring me acrossthe path of a man as sinister and formidable as these bits ofdescription seemed to indicate.

  "What family has he?" I asked, trying the more to seem indifferent as Icame closer to the point.

  "No family. His children are all dead. Some
foolish folk say he expectedtoo much of them, and tried to bring them up too severely, as if theyhad been Spartans. But that is certainly a slander, for his eldest sonwas killed in battle in the last civil war."

  "Then he has no daughter--or grand-daughter--or niece, perhaps?"

  "Not that I know of. Why do you ask, Monsieur?"

  "I thought I saw a lady at one of the windows," said I, inventing.

  "No doubt. It must have been his wife. She would be the only ladythere."

  "Oh, but this was surely a young lady," I said, clinging to mypreconceptions.

  "Certainly. His new wife is young. The children I spoke of were by hisfirst wife, poor woman! Oh, yes, his new wife is young--beautiful too,they say."

  "And how do she and the Count agree together, being rather unevenlymatched?"

  "That is the question. Nobody sees much of their life. She never comesout of the grounds of the chateau, except to church sometimes, when shelooks neither to the right nor to the left."

  "But who are her people, to have arranged her marriage with such a man?"

  "Oh. I believe she has no people. An orphan, whom he took out of aconvent. A gentlewoman, yes, but of obscure family."

  "I can't suppose she is very happy."

  "Who knows, Monsieur? They do say the old wolf--I mean the Count,Monsieur,--we are sometimes playful in our talk here at Montoire,--theysay he is terribly jealous. They say that is why he keeps her so close.Of course I know nothing of it.--You noticed, perhaps, that the moat wasfull of water. The drawbridge is up half the time. One would suppose theCivil wars were back again. To be sure, some people hint that there maybe another reason for all that: but I, for one, take no interest inpolitics."

  "You mean the Count is thought to be one of those who are disaffectedtoward the King?"

  "H-sh, Monsieur! We mustn't say such things. If idle whispers go around,we can't help hearing them; but as for repeating them, or believingthem, that's another matter. I mention only what all can see--that theChateau de Lavardin is kept very much closed against company. The sayingis, that it's as hard to get into the Chateau de Lavardin nowadays asinto heaven. It's very certain, the Count has no welcome for strangers."

  And yet somehow I should have to get into the chateau, and obtainprivate speech with the Countess,--for it must be she who had summonedMonsieur de Merri.

  "In that case," said I, "they must have no visitors at all. But I recallmeeting a young gentleman the other day, who was acquainted with somegreat family near Montoire, and, from certain things, I think it must bethis very Lavardin family. He was a Monsieur de Merri."

  "Ah, yes. He has stayed at this inn. It was here the Count met him, oneday when the Count was returning from the hunt. The Count was thirstyand stopped to drink, and the young gentleman began to talk with himabout the hounds. At that time half the Count's pack were suffering froma strange disease, which threatened the others. When the Count describedthe disease, Monsieur de Merri said he knew all about it and could cureit. The Count took him to the chateau, where he stayed a fortnight, foryou see, however jealous the count may be of his wife, he cares more forhis hounds. Monsieur de Merri cured them, and that is how he gotadmission to the Chateau de Lavardin. But besides him and the redCaptain, there aren't many who can boast of that privilege."

  "The red Captain? Who is he?"

  "Captain Ferragant. He is a friend of the Count's, who comes to thechateau sometimes and makes long visits there. Where he comes from, ofwhat he does when he is elsewhere, I cannot tell. He is at the chateaunow, I believe."

  "Why did you call him the red Captain?"

  "The people have given him that name. He has a great red splash down oneside of his face. They say it was caused by a burn."

  "Received in the wars, perhaps."

  "No doubt. He has fought under many banners, it is said. Some declare hestill keeps his company together, always ready for the highest bidder;but if that's true, I don't know where he keeps it, or how he does sowithout a loss when not at the wars. It is true, he brings a suite ofsturdy fellows when he comes to Lavardin; but not enough to make whatyou would call a company."

  "Perhaps he has made his fortune and retired."

  "He's not an old man, Monsieur, though he is the friend of the Count. Heis at the prime of life, I should say. A tall, strong man. He would behandsome but for the red stamp on his face. He has great influence overthe Count. They drink, hunt, and play together. In many ways they arealike. The red Captain, too, has a smile that some people are afraid of,and a laugh that is merciless, but they are broad and bold, if you canunderstand what I mean,--not like the wily chuckle of the Count. He hasbig, ferocious eyes, too; while the Count's are small and half-closed.If people will fear those two men because of their looks, I can't for mylife say which is to be feared the more."

  "A pleasant pair for anybody to come in conflict with," said I, aslightly as I could.

  "Yes, Monsieur, and seeing that strangers are so unwelcome there, youwill do well to pass by the Chateau de Lavardin without stopping toexchange compliments." With a jocular smile, the innkeeper went abouthis business, while I finished my dinner with a mind full of misgivings.

  I rose from the table, left the inn, and walked back, by the straightroad of half a league, to Lavardin, pondering on the problem before me.It was a natural feeling that I might come by an inspiration moreprobably in the presence of the chateau than away from it. There was alittle cabaret in the village, in full sight of the chateau gates, andjust far enough back from the road to give room for two small tables infront. At one of these tables a man was already sitting, so I tookpossession of the other and called for a bottle of wine. I then satthere, slowly sipping, with my eyes on the chateau, hoping that bycontemplation thereof, or perhaps by some occurrence thereabout, I mightarrive at some idea of how to proceed. The drawbridge was not up, butthe gates were closed. From where I sat, I could see the gate towers, apart of the outer wall, the turreted top of the chateau itself beyondthe court, and the great high tower, which looked very ancient andsombre. But the more I looked, the more nearly impossible it appearedthat I could devise means of getting into the place and to the ear ofthe Countess.

  As I was gazing at the chateau, I had a feeling that the man at theother table was gazing at me. I glanced at him, but seemed to have beenmistaken. He was looking absently at the sky over my head. I now tookthought of what a very silent, motionless, undemonstrative man this was.He was thin and oldish, and of moderate stature, with a narrow face,pale eyes, and a very long nose. He was dressed in dull brown cloth, andwas in all respects--save his length of nose--one of those persons ofwhom nobody ever takes much note. And he in turn did not seem to takemuch note of the world. He looked at the sky, the house roofs and theroad, but his thoughts did not appear to concern themselves with thesethings, or with anything, unless with the wine which he, like myself,sipped in a leisurely manner.

  I dismissed him from my attention, and resumed my observation of thechateau. But nobody came nor went, the gates did not open, nothinghappened to give me an idea. When I looked again at the other table, thelong-nosed man was gone. It was as if he had simply melted away.

  "Who was the man sitting there?" I asked the woman of the cabaret.

  "I don't know, Monsieur. He arrived here this morning. I never saw himbefore to-day."

  In the evening I went back to Montoire, no nearer the solution of myproblem than before. Nor did a sleepless night help me any: I formed adozen fantastic schemes, only to reject every one of them as impossible.What made all this worse, was the consideration that time might be ofthe utmost importance in the affairs of the imperilled lady.

  The next morning I went to view the chateau from other points than thevillage cabaret. This time I took the way the messenger had ledme,--turned down the lane, and traversed the fields by the moat. I satwhere I had hid the day before; staring at the postern and the wall,over which birds flew now and then, indicating that there was a gardenon the other side. Receiving no suggestion here
, I took up my station atthe tree from which the messenger had shown the handkerchief. I thoughtof climbing it, to see over the wall. But just as I had formed myresolution, I happened to glance over the fields and see a man strollingidly along near the edge of the moat. As he came nearer, I recognizedhim as the long-nosed gentleman in the brown doublet and hose.

  He saw me, and gazed, in his absent way, with a momentary curiosity.Angry at being caught almost in the act of spying out the land, Ihastened off, passing between the rear wall and the forest which grewnearly to the moat, and to which the tree itself belonged. In this way,I soon left my long-nosed friend behind, and came out on the oppositeside of the chateau.

  Here I found a hillock, from the top of which I could see more of thechateau proper and the other contents of the great walled enclosure. Isat for some time regarding them, but the towers, turrets, roofs,windows, and tree tops engendered no project in my mind.

  Suddenly I heard a low, discreet cough behind me, and, looking around,saw the long-nosed man standing not six feet away.

  The sight gave me a start, for I had neither heard nor seen himapproach, though the way I had come was within my field of vision. Hemust have made a wide circle through the woods.

  His mild eyes were upon me. "Good morning, Monsieur," said he, in a dry,small voice.

  "Good morning," said I, rather ungraciously.

  He came close to me, and said, with a faint look of amusement:

  "May I tell you what is your chief thought at present, Monsieur?"

  After a moment, I deemed it best to answer, "If you wish."

  "It is that you would give half the money in your purse to get into thatchateau yonder."

  At first I could only look astonishment. Then I considered it wise totake his remark as a joke; accordingly I laughed, and asked, "How do youknow that?"

  "Oh, I have observed you yesterday and to-day. You have a very eloquentcountenance, Monsieur. Well, I don't blame you for wishing you could getover those walls. I have been young myself: I know what an attraction apretty maid is."

  So he thought it was some love affair with a lady's maid that lay behindthe wish he had divined in me. I saw no reason to undeceive him; so Imerely said, "And what is all this to you, Monsieur?"

  "Hum!--that depends," he replied. "Tell me first, are you known to theCount de Lavardin or his principal people--by sight, I mean?"

  "Neither by sight nor otherwise."

  "Good! Excellent!" said the man, looking really pleased. "I dared hopeas much, when the woman at the cabaret said you were a stranger. What isall this to me? you ask. Well, as I have taken the liberty to read yourthoughts, I will be frank with you in regard to my own. I also have adesire to see the inside of that chateau, and, as I haven't the honourof the Count's acquaintance, and he is very suspicious of strangers, Imust resort to my devices. My reasons for wanting to be admitted yonderare my own secret, but I assure you they won't conflict with yours. So,as I have been studying you a little, and think you a gentleman to betrusted, I propose that we shall help each other, as far as our objectis the same. In other words, Monsieur, if you will do as I say, Ibelieve we may both find ourselves freely admitted to the Chateau deLavardin before this day is over. Once inside, each shall go about hispurposes without any concern for the other. What do you think of it,Monsieur?"